


The Sweetest Sin

by tirsynni



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 19:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22003579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tirsynni/pseuds/tirsynni
Summary: Angus MacGyver was all alone, with Jack Dalton oblivious down the hall in his own hotel room.
Relationships: Angus MacGyver/Murdoc (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 81





	The Sweetest Sin

**Author's Note:**

> "Abandon hope all ye who enters here." - Dante's _Divine Comedy_

It wasn’t love at first sight. It wasn’t even  _ lust _ at first sight. As much as he loved lies, in his business, when one started lying to one’s self, it became a lethal weakness. No. Everything came later, when his sweetheart  _ earned  _ it.

The hotel was ridiculously easy to enter, easier than even MacGyver’s house. His darling boy was so  _ trusting _ . It was charming, really.

Humming under his breath, Murdoc watched ol’ Jackie boy leave MacGyver’s room and head to his own. It took little effort to ensure that the only free hotel rooms were separated from each other. He had several plans in place in case Dalton decided to curl up at the edge of MacGyver’s bed or park himself outside MacGyver’s door like the loyal hound he was. None of those plans were ideal and would conflict with his desired end result, but he prided himself on his flexibility.

He watched Dalton vanish around a corner and tsked under his breath. Dalton was an excellent example of how deceiving things could be. One would think a killer like Dalton would be more interesting, but no: at the end of the day, he was little more than a glorified attack dog. The only fun thing about him were his  _ reactions _ .

Humming again, Murdoc walked up to MacGyver’s door. Oh, yes. His reaction was going to be a dash of sprinkles on this particularly delicious cake.

There were two cameras on this hall alone, the bright light showing they were both recording. Recording but not hooked up to the televisions below. More fun reactions from the Phoenix gang when they watched Murdoc stroll up to MacGyver’s door, and it would be a lovely souvenir for Murdoc later.

Really, all of this was coming together so nicely. It made one believe in fate.

With a brilliant grin curving his mouth, Murdoc knocked on MacGyver’s door with one hand, his other hand ready at his side. This was going to be so much fun.

Almost immediately after Murdoc knocked, MacGyver opened the door with a smile. “Jack, did you --”

So pretty, but even prettier when realization took hold.Those lovely blue eyes widened. Color fled from his innocent face. MacGyver jerked back, tasty mouth open to yell, but of the two of them, Murdoc was the one prepared. Grinning cheerfully, Murdoc slammed the taser against MacGyver’s neck. His grin only grew as MacGyver’s body jerked so sweetly, eyes rolling. When Murdoc pulled the taser back, MacGyver collapsed, warm and wonderful in Murdoc’s arms.

Murdoc paused long to wink at the camera before hauling his prize into the hotel room. A moment later, the “Do Not Disturb” sign was hung on the doorknob. The door locked with a distinct  _ click _ .

Murdoc merrily hummed as he dragged MacGyver to the bed. The hotel room was less than impressive, one of the few things Murdoc disliked about the plan. The carpet was a dull brown, walls an even duller beige, and the less said about the pictures used to “brighten” the room, the better. A singularly unimpressive bathroom was attached, small and boring and far too the point for Murdor’s pleasure. The only thing the room had going for it -- not counting its charming guest -- was its queen-sized bed.

Perhaps when everything was done, Murdoc would burn the hotel down. A nice dessert for the evening.

By the time he pulled MacGyver onto the bed, MacGyver’s eyes were rolling behind their lids, fingers twitching. His dear MacGyver, always fighting back the darkness. Smiling fondly, Murdoc patted his cheek. “You’re so stubborn. Just relax and enjoy yourself.”

No answer. Ah, well. There would be plenty of time for that later. This was just one step, after all Proving a point to pertinent parties and treating himself at the same time. As well as flexibility, Murdoc prided himself on his ability to multitask. For example, now he steadied MacGyver on the bed and pulled out an alcohol wipe and a capped needle from his pocket, all the while enjoying MacGyver’s pathetic struggles for consciousness.

“This is a little concoction I made just for you,” Murdoc confided, rolling up MacGyver’s flannel sleeve. As brilliant as his boy was, he had no fashion sense. They would need to work on that. To show how concerned he was for the boy, Murdoc made a point of cleaning MacGyver’s arm with the alcohol wipe. He pulled off the needle cap with his teeth and then slid the needle under MacGyver’s smooth skin. MacGyver’s pathetic jerk didn’t even jar the needle. “A little of this, a little of that, just enough for us both to enjoy tonight.”

Injection given, Murdoc placed the used alcohol wipe and needle on the nightstand. “It should take about twenty to kick in,” he continued. “Considering your long day and how you reacted last time I tased you, I expect  _ those _ effects to begin before the taser’s effects wear off.” He pulled out his backup alcohol wipe and took care of the nasty red mark on MacGyver’s neck. An infection would be disgusting and disruptive. 

“ _ Technically _ , this will be rape, but only because you refuse to relax and have fun.” Murdoc placed the second used alcohol wipe on the nightstand. Then he leaned back and studied MacGyver. Clad in jeans which did wonders for his legs, all nicely sprawled out on the bed, with that annoying flannel instead of that annoying jacket, MacGyver looked like a nice snack. Those baby blues were closed, pale face even paler, but they had hours to put some color back in those cheeks and enjoy those pretty eyes. “It is a great responsibility, but I’m more than happy to teach you.”

No reaction. Murdoc sighed. This portion was necessary but so boring. At least the next bit would be more fun.

“I suppose this would be a good time to start calling you Angus.” Murdoc reached for MacGyver’s -- Angus’s -- belt. “Since we’re going to be so  _ close _ and everything.”

Murdoc lingered over Angus’s belt, fingers gentle over the leather. It was remarkable how, for so many others, this was simply a belt, but in Angus’s clever hands, it was a versatile tool. With that in mind, Murdoc slid it out of the hoops and tossed it to the other side of the room. He moved to Angus’s shoes next. Not only an annoyance during fun times, but Angus was known to make a tool or two out of his shoelaces, as well. It was best for all parties if such distractions were minimized.

Angus would disagree, obviously, but sometimes Murdoc thought he just liked to argue for the sake of arguing.

Shoes tossed in the same corner as the belt, it was time for Murdoc to truly begin enjoying himself. 

“I can’t help but wonder,” Murdoc mused aloud, setting his hands on Angus’s hips, “if your dear  _ Jack _ ever touched you like this. He seems too boring for any fun kinks, but having someone like you in his bed?” He rubbed his hands against the coarse fabric of Angus’s jeans, the sweet flesh of Angus’s thighs only two layers away. “Staring so trustingly at him, the killer that he is, so confident that he won’t hurt you.” Murdoc’s fingers trailed to the single button on Angus’s jeans. “And you… Do you call him  _ Daddy _ in bed?”

The button gave way with only a whisper of sound. Murdoc’s breath caught as he held the zipper tab between two fingers.

“Are you dreaming about him now?” Murdoc murmured. “Of your dear Jack saving you?”

Each click of the zipper sliding down sent a new thrill up his spine, the dull teeth giving way to his gentle pull.

“Your dear Jack.” Slowly, so slowly, savoring every moment. “Right down the hall. Oblivious.”

Zipper down, Murdoc trailed his fingers over the tempting shadows between the zipper teeth. “Jack, who swore to save you. I hope he’s a better Daddy than a bodyguard.”

Murdoc eased the jeans down over long, pale legs. He kept his touch light, fascinated by the goosebumps rising in the wake of his fingers. His dear Angus would no doubt know the  _ correct _ name of them, but Murdoc was more interested in action/reaction, the feel of soft skin and soft hair against his callused fingertips, of the responding delicate shivers. 

“Could you even bring yourself to relax long enough to enjoy a little roleplay?” There was minimal fat on Angus’s legs, only lean muscle. “Can your dearest attack dog convince you to stay in handcuffs for more than five minutes without trying to break out of them?” 

There was something incongruous, innocuous about Angus’s feet and legs only clad in black socks and black briefs. It made those pale legs seem paler, already vulnerable flesh more vulnerable. It sent shivers up Murdoc’s spine.

“Is it that he is so loyal?” Murdoc asked quietly, tracing a scar on Angus’s thigh with a fingernail. “Someone like Dalton… It’s so easy to imagine his reaction, someone like you calling him Daddy in bed with these legs wrapped around his waist. It would be enough to get even a man of Dalton’s years raring to go each time.”

The scar looked like a stab wound, dangerously close to Angus’s artery. For a moment, Murdoc couldn’t breathe through the envy.

Murdoc slipped off Angus’s socks with careful grace, taking a moment to admire the graceful arch of his feet and delicate toes, and was reaching for that hideous flannel when he noticed Angus’s eyes fluttering. The boyscout was fighting so hard, and from the look of it, would probably manage to awaken before the drugs kicked in. Murdoc sighed. Ah, well. He had been prepared for this eventuality, too.

By the time those lovely blue eyes opened, Murdoc stripped him down to his briefs, gagged him with a black tie he found in Angus’s bag, and handcuffed him to the headboard. Even as awareness returned to Angus’s dazed eyes, Murdoc took a moment to take a picture. Stretched out on the bed, naked but for his black briefs, gagged and handcuffed, Angus MacGyver made a beautiful picture.

He wondered idly, taking another picture as realization and horror twisted Angus’s sweet face, how Jack would react to the pictures. Would he grow hard even as he yelled his outrage? Hate himself and Murdoc equally, perhaps. Weep in the night as he jacked off. Murdoc shivered, his own arousal building at the thought.

“My apologies for the gag,” Murdoc said sincerely. “If you started yelling for help, ol’ Jack might come to interrupt our fun and I would have to shoot him. That would  _ really _ throw a wrench in things.”

Angus stiffened, a brand new fear darkening his face. Murdoc took one last picture before putting his phone on the nightstand.

“How many doors separate you from your dear Jack?” Murdoc asked idly. He ran a hand over Angus’s bare thigh, just to watch him flinch. There was such fury and fear in those lovely eyes, but Murdoc could see the drugs winning, inevitable as the tide. Even Angus’s will could only push so far. “So close and yet… For all of his promises to protect you, he can’t even protect you when you’re on the same floor.”

Angus growled, a thrilling sound, and jerked against the cuffs. All that rage cut short as Angus fell back on the bed, confused and dizzy.

“That is either the result of being tased or the drug,” Murdoc said, voice growing more cheerful. After all, the truly fun part was about to begin. “Possibly a mixture of both. You’re not the only one who likes to be prepared, Boyscout. A little something something to get me into the door and a little something something to make sure your hysterics don’t ruin the fun too soon.” He tsked and shook his head. “Or being exceptionally rude and yelling at me. It could hurt a man’s feelings.”

Despite being drugged and tased, Angus managed a truly impressive glare. Murdoc preened. Never did he see any of Angus’s fury directed anywhere else: just at him. Just as it should be.

“You’re probably feeling the drugs’ effects by now. It’s why I’m not concerned about you pulling one of your tricks with those handcuffs.” Murdoc smiled charmingly at him, watching those clever fingers wiggle. “Why, in a couple more minutes, I can take them off, and you’ll be helpless to do anything.”

Such fury and fear… all for  _ him _ . Murdoc watched with delight as Angus tried to assess his situation, but the drugs were dragging him down, deeper and deeper. Not to unconsciousness, no. Where would the fun be in that? No, he wanted Angus awake and at least somewhat aware.

“Now.” Murdoc dragged his fingers up Angus’s thigh, teasing the edge of those tight black briefs. “Where was I?”

No, it wasn’t love or even lust at first sight. Agent Angus MacGyver was just another boring tool of the machine, a clever and pretty but ultimately  _ dull _ asset wielded by unimaginative hands. It took time for Murdoc’s admiration to grow. Just like it would take time for lust to replace the revulsion in those blue eyes.

But not the hatred. The hatred could stay.

Angus tried to kick him, but he was slow and uncoordinated. Murdoc hooked his fingers into Angus’s briefs and lazily dragged them down, avoiding those bare, flailing feet with a gleeful carelessness. He was torn between watching inch by inch as that pale skin was revealed and watching those lovely eyes blow black. 

Angus snarled something garbled and slurred. Murdoc licked his lips. The white skin won.

“Am I about to enjoy Jackie’s sloppy seconds, Angus?” Dark blond curls, carefully groomed. Murdoc shifted his finger to graze a knuckle against them. Another flinch, a heartbeat late. “Or does he like to wait until you’re both home, take his time, worship you like a drooling dog worships its owner?”

Another snarl, but it didn’t hide Angus’s flinch when Murdoc pulled his briefs down his thighs. Angus was limp and soft against his pale thigh. Murdoc gently slid his knuckle against his cock. Uncircumcised. A lovely surprise.

“You can call me  _ Jack _ tonight if you want.” The kicks were getting slower, more wiggles than anything. Murdoc finished pulling the briefs off and tossed them toward the door. Let them be the first thing Jack sees when he opens the door. “Next time, though, I’ll expect you to call me by my name.”

There.  _ There _ . Angus made a choking noise. Murdoc looked up and watch anguish flood those dilated eyes. Angus’s fingers stilled, going limp. Murdoc’s smile grew.

“Or you can just moan,” he murmured. “That’ll be fine, too.”

Murdoc left the handcuffs on. Angus was high as a kite and wouldn’t be going anywhere, but it was no longer about practicalities: it was about  _ aesthetics _ . 

Angus still slurred snarls at him but his body remained soft, pliable, under Murdoc’s hands and mouth. Murdoc pressed his lips and teeth against Angus’s throat and felt his whimper. He couldn’t resist moving up to taste it.

“Nice,” he murmured. “Stop on the way here for some pizza?”

Angus growled. Murdoc laughed.

Somewhere down the hall, Jack Dalton slept, dreaming of cowherds or whatever good Texan boys dreamed about, while Murdoc slid his hands up his partner’s naked thighs. Angus’s struggles were reduced to slow writhing, which excited Murdoc more than anything else.

He kissed the birthmark and then trailed his mouth down. He left a trail of saliva and teeth marks, feeling the sensitive skin under his lips and tongue jump. Sweat lingered on Angus’s flesh. Murdoc swore he could taste Angus’s fear.

A bullet scar on his chest. Two nipples, shockingly sensitive, tightening with the lightest of bites. Angus’s moan was sweet, sweet music to his ears. Murdoc heard the clank of the handcuffs as Angus tried again to fight.

“Oh, darling boy,” Murdoc crooned. He pulled away to grab the last of his supplies. “Time for the real fun to begin.”

Perhaps Murdoc’s favorite part of the night, more than Angus’s muffled moan for his  _ Jack _ , more than the feel of Angus’s hot blood slick between them, more even than moving between Angus’s thighs, was the anguished noise Angus made when he came in Murdoc’s hand.

xoxoxox

“Mac? Hey, Mac, it’s time for breakfast.”

Jack whistled tunelessly to himself as he knocked on Mac’s door again. There was a small diner right down the street he was dying to try, and then it was time to catch their flight. He was putting breakfast on Phoenix’s bill, too: the least they could do for making them stay in this town for an extra night.

No answer. Jack frowned and knocked again. “Hey, Mac, you up?”

Silence. Jack’s  _ Mac _ senses were tingling. He rested one hand on his gun, the other on the doorknob. He pressed his ear against the door just in case Mac was showering. “Mac?”

Under his light grip, the doorknob turned.  _ Unlocked _ , he realized, even as he heard a low moan in the room.

“ _ Mac! _ ” Jack whipped out his gun and slammed the door open. 

The scene that greeted him would haunt his nightmares for years.

A pair of black briefs by the door caught his eye first. Later, he would note the rest of Mac’s clothes scattered throughout the room. The flash of red on the wall caught his eye for a heartbeat, but only later would he read the grisly note Murdoc left behind. When he noticed Mac on the bed, everything else vanished.

“Mac!  _ Mac! _ ” 

Naked but for a gag, hands cuffed above his head, Mac’s blown-black eyes met his gaze once before rolling away, eyes sliding shut. White liquid congealed between his bruised thighs, over the bite marks on his stomach. 

By the bullet scar on his chest, smeared by dirty fingers, was a bloody  _ M _ carved over Mac’s heart.

Jack’s hands shook as he freed Mac from the cuffs, whispering over and over that everything would be all right, that he would take care of him. Fresh tears cut through the dried tracks on Mac’s face but Mac’s gaze never focused on him. Jack wasn’t sure if Mac knew he was there.

“Everything will be okay,” Jack whispered, an assurance and a prayer. “Everything will be okay, I promise.”

Jack had been right down the hall, Jack realized as he called Phoenix and helped clean Mac up. When all of this had been happening, Jack had been  _ right down the hall _ .

Only when the doctors swept Mac away did Jack allow himself to break down and weep. Standing over a dead security guard, Murdoc watched the great Jack Dalton cry on the security screen.

“He called your name, too,” Murdoc said cheerfully.

**Author's Note:**

> I was a fan of the original MacGyver and was really iffy about the new series. The sheer amount of whump fics lured me to the fandom and the clips with Murdoc and Mac killed me. Unsure if I'll do anything else in this fandom, but if I do, I'll update it on my [tumblr](https://tirsynni.tumblr.com/) and it'll probably center around this trio.


End file.
